The Shadows That Chase Him
by ChikitaWolf
Summary: As morbid as the Destroyer of Time admitted it could sound, the feeling of his own torn flesh, bruised muscle, and fractured bones was more familiar to him than any friendship he had managed to grow in his past year spent at the Black Order. [writing experiment][Allen-centric]


_A short character analysis that turned into a writing experiment that then turned into something fanfiction-worthy. Idek. Most of it is just an exploration into Allen's character based off what we know from the manga, anime, and Reverse Novels.  
_

_I didn't really reread over this much. I just kinda splashed it on the page. If you notice any mistakes, feel free to point them out. :D_

_Anyway, if I haven't lost you yet, read on and (hopefully) enjoy!_

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**\- -|- The Shadows That Chase Him -|- -**

Pain was not unique to Allen Walker.

As morbid as the Destroyer of Time admitted it could sound, the feeling of his own torn flesh, bruised muscle, and fractured bones was more familiar to him than any friendship he had managed to grow in his past months (or was it a year now?) at the Black Order. Truly, ever since he had been conscious of it, Pain had been an ever-constant, fickle companion in all of its many, diverse forms. Even in his loneliest of hours, Pain had been there to keep him company; an unfailing shadow at his back.

To put it in perspective, Allen's first recollection of Pain's companionship occurred before he had been "Allen." It was hard for him to pinpoint his exact age at the time, seeing as how he had never _really_ been sure of his real age, but Allen figured a good guess would be around four years-old. (He assumed this because Lavi had informed him four was the age at which humans became capable of retaining memories). Anyway, it was "Red" who met Pain first in the shape of an empty belly. He hadn't understood back then that the sharp pangs scraping the inside walls of his stomach raw were a bad thing. Red had only known that the feeling was with him so often that it could only rationally (in his young mind) be considered the norm.

Similarly, Allen's next recollections of Pain were bruised and aching limbs, smarting lacerations and scratches, and swollen joints - all of which could also be considered "normal" to Red. His disfigured left arm hadn't been the only thing "red" on his body; Cosimo had made sure of that.

All in all, it was very rare for Pain not to be shadowing Red.

Indeed, as far as he could remember, there had only been one time Pain's presence became unnaturally scarce, and that was after he became "Allen." On that fateful day, Red had accepted Mana's offer to adopt him, and the two of them left Cosimo and his blasted circus behind together.

Following Mana's abrupt insertion into his life, Pain's shadow was pushed away; and as he walked hand-in-hand with his new foster father down some dirt road in some forgotten part of England, the newly named "Allen" mistakenly believed that Pain didn't have to be a constant companion as he had initially thought.

With Mana, Allen laughed, not out of spite, but out of real amusement and happiness. With Mana, he smiled, not out of bitterness, but out of honest joy. With Mana, he did not flinch when touched, but embraced the sanctuary his father's arms provided.

Allen experienced many strange and new, warm and comforting feelings with Mana; but it was because of those that he was blinded by the inevitable to come.

As if scorned, Pain jealously returned full force. A single mishap later, and a mere carriage abruptly ended Allen's father's life.

As Mana lay dying in a pool of his own blood, his last words struggling past broken lips, Allen experienced a new side of his returned, unwelcome companion that day. It was the version of Pain where, when realization set in, horror bloomed in the pit of his stomach, its heavy petals engorging his insides. Then as recognition of what was to come followed, the pressure released, petals bursting forth violently from his flesh. They wrapped in mock comfort around Allen's trembling body, only to suffocate him as the light in Mana's golden eyes finally faded away completely, never to sparkle with amusement and warmth towards him ever again.

What came next was a feeling more terrible than any physically inflicted wound. While Allen buried his only precious loved one, fingers dirtied and bleeding as they scoured mechanically through the earth, Pain introduced another version of itself to him. A starving, all-encompassing ache of loneliness arose within Allen; and his insides, once filled to the brim and bursting with shock and mortification, now corroded away and hallowed out until his frame felt like nothing more than an empty husk.

Unfortunately, it didn't end there.

The fat man descended upon him, his eternal grin promising, and Allen happily accepted his damnation.

The anguish that followed his Sin had been much more real, much more raw, than anything Allen felt whilst watching the light in his beloved father's eyes die out. Stolen back from God, Mana's soul cried out in horror and anger, cursing Allen for his mistake both by word of mouth and by action of his bladed hands. To make matters worse, the Innocence asleep within Allen's left arm chose that moment to Awaken, its programmed desire to purify the Darkness he had sinfully called upon too strong to ignore.

No "I love you" could lessen the agony that followed.

At the same time as his Innocence claw violently ripped apart Mana, the fragile, remaining threads of Allen's mind snapped. They shattered as suddenly as glass, disintegrating into ash along with his precious father's Akuma skeleton.

Admittedly, Allen didn't remember much after that. Sometimes, a few tantalizing images would taunt the edge of his memory, but even when he dared to reach out, the delicate scenes would flit away; and then he would be left questioning if anything had even been there in the first place.

Regardless, from that day onward, Allen would never be deceived again. Even in his happiest of moments, he knew his old, unwelcome companion Pain was there; an ever-present shadow watching and waiting to tear into him when the opportunity presented itself. This realization and recognition of the inevitable allowed Allen - now Allen Walker - to survive. After General Cross Marian took him in, not even the coldest of nights or most infuriating of days with the damn womanizer could break him. His tender age and child's body meant nothing - his mind had become a fortress, and his ideals became the glue that kept it together.

Since then, Allen Walker has pulled through everything Pain decided to throw at him.

He had survived traumatizing years with his insufferable Master Cross, and he had destroyed his very first best friend, Narain, who had called upon the Earl in a moment of weakness.

After finally becoming an exorcist, he'd proceeded to get his left eye stabbed out by a candle (courtesy of the Noah of Dreams); his Innocence arm ripped off and destroyed in front of his eyes (courtesy of the Noah of Pleasure); and a hole bitten out of his heart by a cannibalistic butterfly (once again, courtesy of the Noah of Pleasure), after which he was left to bleed out and die alone in the middle of a bamboo forest in China.

Allen had then struggled armless and useless for weeks in recovery at the Black Order's Asian Branch; and, as a result, suffered through vengeful punishment from his cursed eye for the wasted time that could have been spent giving salvation to Akuma.

He had experienced his body falling apart on a molecular level due to the abilities of a Level Three Akuma, and had later watched as his comrades - no, his _friends_ \- were left behind one by one to fight on their own against sadistic Noahs in a collapsing alternate dimension. He had nearly had his Innocence destroyed once again in the midst of the latter, gotten close to having his heart ripped out for a second time, just about been burned alive by the fiery-haired Bookman Junior he considered his friend and comrade, and then barely survived Joyd's awakening.

To add the icing to the cake of absolutely painful shit he'd gone through (because there was _so much more_), Allen also recently found out that he had, of all things, _a Noah_ camped out in his head, waiting to take over his body and do who knows what. He'd then been labeled a person of suspicion (if not already a traitor) by the very organization he continued to put his life on the line and fight for, in addition to being informed by his Master that Mana had been the twin brother of none other than the damned enemy intruder in his mind.

Speaking of the aforementioned Master Cross Marian - that man, the only person Allen could turn to for answers and even _remotely_ think of as a father figure after Mana (not that he'd admit this even now), decided to _drop dead_ on him at the worst possible of times. Can't forget that one.

Right, Allen Walker was well acquainted with Pain in all of its many, diverse varieties these past few years; from the physical to the mental to the uncategorizable. But even with his impressive track record, nothing could have prepared him for what Crown Clown inflicted during his mission in France.

Allen's mind, again, was a fortress. Admittedly, it was a _tad_ beaten down and cracked by this point, especially with his insecurities regarding Mana, but it was still holding admirably strong nonetheless. However, when his Innocence - that very substance that gave him solace and purpose in life - embedded itself into his body with him completely trusting it to do what it was meant to do, Allen did not expect it to harm something more than the pitiful Level Four pinned to his chest.

Indeed, at that moment, his old shadow Pain decided to leap up eagerly and remind him that it was still very much there and kicking and not ready to give him a break just yet.

When Crown Clown found it apt to attack the sleeping Noah Memory tucked away in the back of his head, Allen Walker ripped his throat apart in his agony. His mind was thrown into chaos, his focus somehow zeroing in with remarkable clarity on every _screaming_ nerve ending that was torn into. Allen was entirely consumed by the sheer torment thrust upon him, his hands clawing at his splitting skull in a vain attempt to hold himself together until it was over.

_But it didn't end._

Crown Clown determinedly plowed on, not giving up on its aim to purify the hidden taint within its host. In the meantime, still tearing his throat's walls apart with bloody murder, Allen's agony progressed to the point where he felt as if his skin were peeling off, inch by miserable inch. His insides were soon melting and churning and corroding his bones, muscles twisting and tearing and tangling beneath his flesh.

And yet, even as the torture continued, his body refused to die; or maybe it was Allen who refused to die. Regardless, what remained of him embraced his warring insides, twisting and morphing into something unrecognizable as it rebelled against its very self.

Then, unbidden, Allen felt something deep, _deep_ down inside of him **shift**. He knew at that moment that the enemy had finally been reached.

Very much awake now, the Fourteenth lashed back with vigor, the resulting fresh wave of fiery torment scorching through Allen's veins. A surge of Dark Matter he could have never guessed rested within him pulsed beneath his peeling flesh and writhing muscle -

\- and it was War. The Innocence and Dark Matter snarled like enraged wolves, savagely ripping and tearing at each other and at Allen and at everything that came in the midst of their fated conflict.

And then, just as Allen's body began to finally reach its limit, the last few threads holding the seams together coming undone, _it stopped_.

For a few precious seconds, Allen felt nothing. Unfortunately, it was in those few precious seconds that he realized he had slipped up. Despite this epiphany, it was only when a familiar flash of metal and the image of angry, cobalt eyes burst into his sight that Allen jolted from his stupor.

Light flaring into his returned vision, the Exorcist gripped the hilt of his Sword of Salvation tightly, and one, strangely terrified Level Four was effectively given salvation.

_"The name's Allen."_

A phrase to repeat, to cling onto with every fiber of his being. He plastered it over the trembling remains of his fortress, adding it to the glue and mortar like he had with every one of his friends and happy memories with Mana.

It would hold. He would _make_ it hold. He could not break, he could not slip again - not now, not ever. Not after all the shit he had been through. It would be like spitting on his accomplishments, on the people who had supported him and died doing so. Giving up would mean failing Mana, failing Narain, failing his bastard Master, Mother, Baba, and everyone at the Order and outside of it.

Oh yes, Allen was very familiar with Pain. That dreaded companion that haunted his every step when he'd been Red, nearly destroyed him after he'd become Allen, and then continued to lie in wait as he became Allen Walker, apprentice of Cross Marian; later Allen Walker, Exorcist of the Black Order and Destroyer of Time; and presently Allen Walker, Critical Point Breaker and Player of the Fourteenth's Song.

The only change in current events was that Pain was no longer the only shadow chasing him. Indeed, Allen now had a new, equally unwelcome (if not more troublesome) companion to deal with. One that happened to actually haunt him visibly, a Noah's grin greeting him from every reflective surface he passed.

But it didn't matter to Allen how many shadows - sentient or not - that he attained.

In the end, Mana had told him to keep walking, to never stop; and Allen was going to do just that, shadows be damned.

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_Thoughts? Feedback? Angsty-ridden, teenage beansprouts?_

_Edit: Broke up that summary paragraph as suggested. Thanks for the feedback, ARandomAuthor14!_

_Edit: Did some revising and edits (small). September 12, 2014. _


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